Thursday, July 16, 2015

Members of B Company 2 RAR about to go on a patrol in
Perak in 1956. A Daimler Ferret armoured car has accompanied the patrol to its
setting-off point in a rubber plantation. The patrol is responding to reports
of communist guerrillas in the nearby jungle. Patrolling in search of
guerrillas was the main task of the Australian Army during the Malayan
Emergency. [AWM HOB/56/0751/MC]

In June 1948 a state of emergency was
proclaimed in Malaya in response to Communist guerrilla activity. Problems had
been developing for a considerable time. The British had imported Chinese and
Indian labour to work in the tin mines and rubber plantations. They became a
majority of the population – a fact deeply resented by Malays. The Chinese had
suffered high unemployment in the 1930s, and had then been victimised by the
Japanese after their conquest of Malaya. The Malayan Communist Party was in
fact overwhelmingly (95 per cent) Chinese. They were determined to fight a
restoration of British imperial power. The Communists’ main support was in the
countryside. Barely scraping a living on the fringes of the jungle were perhaps
600,000 Chinese squatters. Their poverty and insecurity made them an ideal
recruiting ground for guerrillas. Their strategy was simple – and potentially
war-winning. They would paralyse the economy, by attacking rubber plantations
and tin mines. The British would eventually cut their losses and leave.

But the fact that the guerrillas were
Chinese shaped Britain’s response. Within China the Communists were in the
ascendant, with the Guomindang regime collapsing. How great were their
ambitions in Asia? Also, Communist inspired guerrillas were challenging
colonial rule throughout the region. From London this all appeared part of a
clearly orchestrated Communist strategy, intended to conquer all of Asia.

Guerrilla warfare in the jungle was a real
challenge to British forces. They soon realised that air power had little
value. Relying on bombs, napalm and defoliants was an exercise in futility.
They could only harass the guerrillas. But ground operations would demand huge
numbers of troops. Besides, every civilian killed by a stray shot would merely
add to their enemies. Firepower, it was quickly recognised, was no solution.
The guerrillas would have to be defeated politically.

The British developed a counter-insurgency
strategy that eventually proved remarkably effective. Indeed Malaya was the
only guerrilla war of its kind where the guerrillas were clearly defeated.
Firstly a process of political reform, answering the demands of nationalists
was introduced. This led, in 1957, to Malayan independence under a pro-western
government. Also the British recognised that it was vital for them to be upholding
the law. Emergency laws were drawn up which were drastic enough for the
security forces to act effectively. But they were also clear enough so that the
security forces were seen to act within the law themselves. Police work was
seen as crucial. Good intelligence was more important than actually killing
guerrillas. Generous surrender terms were offered. Cash rewards were available
to those who surrendered weapons or offered information. Guerrillas could also
surrender and request deportation to China without facing any questioning.

The most vital element in Britain’s
counter-insurgency strategy, however, was their drive to win over the civil
population. Winning ‘hearts and minds’, and depriving the guerrillas of popular
support was a fundamental requirement of British strategy. The section of the
population the British most urgently needed to win over were the 600,000
squatters who provided the guerrillas with most of their support. The strategy
the British adopted to achieve this was both novel and ambitious. They decided
to resettle the entire squatter population.

Separating the guerrillas from their
supporters was an obvious step to make. It would deny the guerrillas supplies,
recruits and intelligence. But the British did not consider any form of
internment for the squatters. To win the squatters’ support they would have to
provide very real material improvements in the squatters’ lives, far beyond
anything the guerrillas could promise. The British provided rehousing, in new
villages. Once there the squatters gained a degree of security of land tenure
they had never before known. Citizenship rights were extended. In material
terms they had luxuries such as electricity and safe water. Teachers and nurses
were provided if they were available. Welfare officers, often Australian and New
Zealander volunteers, protected their interests. The new villagers were given a
degree of self-government, and, crucially, the protection of the security
forces that allowed them to exercise it without fear of guerrilla reprisal.
Eventually they could be given responsibility for their own protection.

By such tactics the areas in which the
guerrillas could operate became ever more constricted. A band of guerrilla-free
territory was driven across Malaya, leaving those in the south totally
isolated. By the mid-1950s the guerrillas were clearly losing. They were never
entirely destroyed. A safe haven in Thailand sustained guerrilla activity in
the north. But they were no longer a serious threat. By July 1960 the emergency
was declared over.

The British success was due to a number of
factors. That the guerrillas were ethnically Chinese and had virtually no Malay
support was one. More importantly was the very early recognition that firepower
could not succeed alone. The British fought a political battle that was
extremely expensive and required enormous patience to gain results. It also
required the creation of a representative Malayan state that was responsive to
popular needs. Success against Communist guerrillas was possible: but not a
quick victory, and certainly not a purely military victory.

The Corona program was a series of American strategic reconnaissance satellites produced and operated by the Central Intelligence Agency Directorate of Science & Technology with substantial assistance from the U.S. Air Force. The Corona satellites were used for photographic surveillance of the Soviet Union (USSR), the People's Republic of China, and other areas beginning in June 1959 and ending in May 1972. The name of this program is sometimes seen as "CORONA", but its actual name "Corona" was a codeword, not an acronym.The Corona satellites were designated KH-1, KH-2, KH-3, KH-4, KH-4A and KH-4B. KH stood for "Key Hole" or "Keyhole" (Code number 1010),[1] with the name being an analogy to the act of spying into a person's room by peering through their door's keyhole. The incrementing number indicated changes in the surveillance instrumentation, such as the change from single-panoramic to double-panoramic cameras. The "KH" naming system was first used in 1962 with KH-4 and the earlier numbers were retroactively applied. There were 144 Corona satellites launched, of which 102 returned usable photographs.

Naturally in the atmosphere of hostility
and mistrust, espionage was seen as a vital tool of the Cold War by both sides.
Initially at least, the Soviet Union enjoyed some crucial advantages. Given the
conspiratorial background of the Bolsheviks, and their fears of foreign attack,
they had lavished far more resources on foreign intelligence in the inter-war
years than the west. Under the banners of international revolution and
anti-Nazism, they had recruited a number of idealistic young men during the
1930s.

Well-educated and well-connected men, which
in Britain included Donald Maclean, Kim Philby and Guy Burgess, became deeply
committed agents. They were to rise to important positions in government
service. In America and across Europe others like them were recruited. During
the war, when the Soviet Union was doing most of the fighting, the urge to help
an ally in difficulty attracted more like them. By the beginning of the Cold
War the USSR had elaborate and well-established networks of agents in the west.
The First Chief Directorate of the KGB was able to divide its responsibilities
into areas that reflected Moscow’s priorities. Department 4 concentrated on
East and West Germany and Austria, symptomatic of Moscow’s obsession with the
wartime enemy. North America naturally warranted its own department. The whole
of Latin America, Francophone and Anglophone Africa had only three departments
between them. Department 11, which spied on WPO allies, was euphemistically
named ‘Liaison with Socialist Countries’. Departments 17 and 18 were later
created, reflecting the rising importance of the Arab world and of south Asia.

The west initially had nothing comparable.
Not only was little priority given to foreign intelligence, the USSR was a far
more hostile environment in which to operate than the west. There were very few
spies in the USSR, which is ironic given the vast numbers executed for spying
during the purges.

In 1945 much of the wartime intelligence
organisations of Britain and America were run down. When the CIA was
established in 1947, it had to begin building an intelligence system from
virtually nothing. In the early years of the Cold War western intelligence
services were to stagger from a series of humiliations. Britain’s SIS was
fooled into sending a number of agents into the east to contact nonexistent
resistance groups, where they were captured. The CIA provided arms, radios and
money to another such mythical group. Faith in these organisations was eroded
by sensational spying scandals in the west. In America Julius and Ethel
Rosenberg were controversially executed for spying on American nuclear secrets.
In Britain Klaus Fuchs and Allan Nunn May were imprisoned for the same offence.
Even more painful for Britain was the humiliatingly long list of senior intelligence
agents exposed as Soviet spies. It seemed as if British Intelligence was being
run from Moscow. Similarly highly placed spies were uncovered throughout NATO.
In America a depressing list of middle-rank agents proved willing to accept
Soviet money. One, Aldrich Ames, reputedly received $2.7 million for betraying
25 agents, ten of whom were shot.

Of course the west had its successes. Oleg
Penkovsky provided valuable information on Soviet weapons systems during the
Cuban Missile Crisis – for which he was tortured and shot. Oleg Gordievsky
informed the west of near-hysteria in the Kremlin in the belief that Ronald
Reagan was about to launch a pre-emptive nuclear attack. A shocked Reagan
moderated his anti-Soviet rhetoric.

Occasionally vital, the role of the spy has
been given an overly glamorous image. Perhaps 90 per cent of the information
intelligence agencies require comes from published sources. Newspapers are a
valuable intelligence source – sometimes presented by agents as from highly
confidential sources. Analysis of foreign media could consider both its content
and what was absent. What the state was not willing to report could indicate
weaknesses or priorities. Questioning émigrés is another routine source of
information. The west’s greatest advantage, however, was through its use of
technology. A valuable source of information was signals intelligence.
Intercepting and deciphering Soviet radio traffic became a routine task. The
USSR struggled to keep up with western computer technology capable of such
tasks.

Surveillance satellites would eventually
allow both sides to observe each other freely. Technology also allowed them
both to get reliable information from China. The PRC was extremely hostile and
dangerous territory for spies. By 1967 both the USA and the USSR had
intelligence gathering satellites in orbit. Henceforth it would be possible to
observe the disposition, structure and movement of the opposition’s military –
subject mainly to weather conditions. A surprise attack was becoming an ever
more remote possibility.

Perhaps this should have supplied a greater
sense of security during the Cold War. But intelligence is of little value if
it is not believed. In the early 1980s no amount of negative reports from the
KGB could convince the Soviet leadership that Reagan was not preparing for war.
At the same time the CIA was unable to convince Reagan that the USSR was not
behind all international terrorism. The Cold War, in short, engendered
attitudes and assumptions that simple information could not change.

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About Me

Mitch Williamson is a technical writer with an
interest in military and naval affairs. He has published articles in
Cross & Cockade International and Wartime magazines. He was
research associate for the Bio-history Cross in the Sky, a book about
Charles 'Moth' Eaton's career, in collaboration with the flier's son,
Dr Charles S. Eaton. He also assisted in picture research for John
Burton's Fortnight of Infamy.
Mitch is now publishing on the WWW various specialist websites combined
with custom website design work.